


This Fic is Not Called 8 Ball

by Jaakkola



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alcohol, Bar Room Brawl, Fist Fights, Kissing, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-06 04:18:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21220451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaakkola/pseuds/Jaakkola
Summary: Flynn craved familiarity after a rough day, and nothing says familiar to Flynn like a bar fight.





	This Fic is Not Called 8 Ball

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the comedy bit of a similar name.

Flynn has had a bad day. He got paid for it, yes, but it was still bad.

Flynn was paid more than double his usual rate to act like bait in Freehold on behalf of the Alliance. Now, Flynn had no interest in setting foot in Freehold again after the last time he was beaten to high water and an Alliance champion had to defend him until Taelia swooped in, but after an island expedition left his ship in desperate need of repairs, Flynn wasn't in the position to deny the hefty amount of gold he would get out of this.

So Flynn spent his day in the Ring of Booty with Shaw, fighting for their lives as pirates, people Flynn had shared drinks with, cheered for their deaths from just outside the ring. Keeshan, Kelsey, and Shandris sure took their sweet time rigging Irontide ships with bombs and looking for shipping schedules that could have been in aid of the Horde. Flynn got shot in the shoulder, and he was quite demoralized over the fact that people Flynn used to sail with desperately wanted him dead, and not even the bag of gold and the healing he got made that worth it.

Flynn wanted nothing more than a bottle of something strong to slam and then retreat to his home to sleep off the feeling of unwelcomed change, but Shaw had surprised him.

"How's the shoulder?" Shaw had asked when Flynn climbed the stairs from the lower deck of _The Wind's Redemption,_ intercepting Flynn before he could make it to the top deck.

"Fine," Flynn had answered. He wasn't really in the mood to come up with a witty comment. He looked over to see Kelsey and Keeshan talking, Kelsey explaining how the remote detonator they had used work with Keeshan nodding with understanding. Keeshan glanced over at Flynn, making eye contact before looking back at the detonator. 

"No remark, Fairwind?" Shaw asked, "did today's mission take that much out of you?"

"Something like that," Flynn muttered. He reached a hand to his shoulder, running his fingers over where the azerite shrapnel hit his shoulder. There was nothing but smooth skin under his fingertips. Not even a scar was left, proof that Flynn survived something. Flynn would never get over how strange that healing was, even if it was miraculous.

"How about a drink then, Captain?"

Flynn's eyebrows shot up with surprise, looking over to Shaw. "Beg pardon?"

"You did well today," he had said, "think of it as a reward for the good work."

Flynn wasn't in the greatest mood for sitting in a noisy tavern, but this was a rare opportunity he couldn't pass up, and perhaps drinking someplace familiar would cheer Flynn up. "You buying?"

"Don't push it," Shaw warned. Keeshan muttered something to Kelsey, the gnome jamming her elbow in his knee in response.

Flynn had picked the tavern closest to his house, one he frequented often. Not many were in, surprisingly. There was a man asleep at his table, two men in a heated argument on the other the tavern, and a few people scattered around, minding their own business. He still wasn't in a great mood, and he's sure Shaw could tell. A couple times Shaw tried to strike up a conversation to cheer up Flynn, but stopped after enough one worded replies. Flynn appreciated the effort, he did, but he just wanted to feel something familiar.

There was a crashing noise from across the tavern, and Flynn looked over to see that a man had fallen over a chair. Or was pushed, rather, as another man stood over him. The man on the ground scrambled up to his feet, with all the speed and gracefulness as one would have when drunk, and threw a punch to the other man. Flynn glanced to the barkeep, who was pointedly not acknowledging the fight as it happened.

Well, it was something familiar, Flynn thought as he calmly unbuckled his sword belt and shrugged off his coat. Shaw didn't say anything, but when Flynn turned back to him, he could see the questioning look across his face. "I don't know what these bastards want to get into," Flynn said as he put his coat and sword belt on the bar counter, pushing them towards Shaw. He slammed the rest of his drink before he moved from where the two stood at the bar, rolling his shoulders experimentally. His left one ached something fierce, but he could still move it just fine, thank the tides. Or, the Light, he supposed.

The man who was thrown to the floor earlier, a strikingly blond lad, stumbled back as he was punched in the stomach, groaning in pain. Flynn took a tankard from a tabletop, its contents emptied into a man who snored peacefully from where he laid face down on the table. He crossed the room, tankard in hand, and promptly joined the fight by hitting the larger man with slicked back hair in the head with the tankard. He stumbled backwards, clearly disoriented from the hit.

The blond man grabbed Flynn's right shoulder to spin him around, greeting him with a punch square in the nose. It immediately makes Flynn's eyes water as all the nerves go off, making it sting to the high heavens. Flynn dropped the tankard and punched the blond square in the jaw with a right hook, which seemed to be enough force to knock him to the ground. Flynn shook out his hand, knuckles stinging from the pain. He was definitely going to get a few bruises out of that one.

The other man grabbed Flynn by his shirt collar and yanked him back. Flynn spun around to face him, and gets two fists bundled into his shirt as he pushed into the closest table, the man pinning him there. Flynn jammed a knee up into the man's crotch, earning Flynn a strangled noise of pain as the man doubled over. Flynn pushed him off easily, standing back up with a huff. He grabbed one of the man's arms, swinging him around and throwing him into the table. The table doesn't break---seedier places tended to have better tables for this exact reason---rather, it simply fell over as the man hits the side too hard, both the table and the man falling onto their sides.

Flynn panted, looking over to the blond to find him still on the floor. He wiped his nose, noting the blood that came away with his hand, and took the fact that neither of them stood up again after several seconds as a sign of victory. The barkeep gave Flynn a slight nod as he walked back over to Shaw, a _thank you for stopping that and not destroying anything in the process._ Flynn returned the nod.

Shaw's eyes were firmly locked onto Flynn, an expression across his face that the pirate hadn't noticed before. It may as well been written in a different language, that expression, because it was illegible to Flynn. "Kept my coat warm for me?"

"I made sure no one threw up on it, if that's what you're asking." Shaw pushed the coat and sword belt back towards Flynn, the strange look still on his face.

"Thanks, mate." Flynn wiped his nose again. "You alright, by the way?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

"You got a weird look on your face."

Shaw laughed, which of course meant he exhaled with the barest hint of a chuckle in his breath. "Are you really this oblivious, Captain, or are you just messing with me?"

Flynn was suddenly on edge, and he wiped his nose again before he spoke. "What are you talking about?"

Shaw just took Flynn by the shirt collar and pressed his lips against his and everything in Flynn missfired because Shaw was kissing him.

"Does that answer your question, Captain?" Shaw asked when he pulled away.

Flynn, who had just lost his ability to make a coherent sentence, struggled to string something together. "I... uh, yeah, I... no. No," Flynn stammered, "no I think I need you to run that by me one more time."

Shaw rolled his eyes, but he does it again, that wonderful bastard, and this time Flynn was ready for it. He's ready for Shaw's warmth as he pulled close, the feeling that was Shaw's lips against his, how everything felt on fire as they kissed. Flynn moved his hands to the sides of Shaw's neck, holding him close because _by the tides_ he didn't want this to end. Flynn had no idea that he needed this, but now that it was happening, the thought of not kissing Shaw felt like complete and utter lunacy.

Everything was different but it was a _good_ different, a different that Flynn wanted to become such a normal thing that he would have it memorized.

Shaw, that bastard, he pulled away again, letting go of Flynn's shirt. Flynn let him go without protest, his breathing hard as his heart beat wildly in his chest. "A thing you should know about me," Flynn started, a little breathless, "is that I'm a notoriously slow learner, so you might need to do that a few more times until I get it."

Shaw breathed out a laugh again and reached for his drink. Flynn just stood there, still trying to get his thought process moving, or at the very least off of what just happened. "You're an interesting man, Captain Fairwind."

"Says the stoic and serious spymaster that just bloody kissed me."

"It's not my fault your the most oblivious man in this port, " Shaw mused as he took a drink.

Flynn brought a hand to his heart, clutching at his chest. "I'm hurt, Shaw."

"Then you'll be real upset to learn that everyone on _The Wind's Redemption_ were taking bets behind my back on how long it'd take you to figure it out."

"You're joking, right?"

Shaw didn't respond, just holding Flynn's gaze.

"Who won, then?"

Shaw thought for a moment, saying, "technically, Shandris with 'never,' considering I had to inform you, but strictly speaking, John J. Keeshan."

Kelsey elbowing Keeshan in the knee suddenly made sense now. "I can't believe Shandris had no faith in me," Flynn half-jokingly said.

"She was also correct."

"Still. I'm wounded."

Shaw just rolled his eyes again. "What am I going to do with you, Captain Fairwind," he sighed.

"I mean, if you're opening up for ideas..."

**Author's Note:**

> "I was on a date, lovely young lady, we're on a date at a bar, not much going on, we're at the bar, and a fight breaks out, over on the side at the bar, between two women... And the lady I was on a date with, sweet young lady, just looked over, it registered with her, and her response to it was to calmly turn back to me, remove her hoop earrings, and as she pushed them across the bar to me, just said, "I don't know what these bitches want to get into."
> 
> "And it wasn't love because she did that, it was love because of how I responded. I didn't judge her, and I didn't try to stop her, I just held those earrings like a war bride. That's all I could do, "this means you're coming back to me. I will write you letters." "
> 
> Anyway thanks for reading lads. Check out Kyle Kinane, he's my favorite comedian. Find me at turalyfun on Tumblr.


End file.
